


Beautiful Creature

by GreyPezzola



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Original Character - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyPezzola/pseuds/GreyPezzola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She arrives suddenly on a moonless night, one moment there's nothing, the next he's feeling her presence. She's small, curled into a ball in the snow, fast asleep in the moonless night. She's light, too light for a child her age, with skin as pale as moonlight. Her hair is also pale, so light of a blond it matches the stars that accompany him on his journey home. Yet she is truly a beautiful creature, as pure as the crisp night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Creature

**Author's Note:**

> Possible warnings: mild drug use, hospital mention, illness, pretty oc centric.
> 
> Disclaimer: I know very little about space ships, Canada's parks, or all sorts of science-y things. If I get my science wrong, please tell me! Also, my french is a bit rusty.
> 
> Also, I wrote this when I was sad, so this isn't the happiest of stories. There is no death though!

The first time he sees her, it's like she's fallen from the sky. Her arrival is sudden; one minute there's nothing, the next she is there. He feels her before he sees her. She's small, curled into a ball in the snow, fast asleep in the moonless night. He touches her bare arm to wake her to find she is cold. When she does not wake, he gently lifts her and carries her out of his forest.

She's light, too light for a child her age, with skin as pale as moonlight. Her hair is also pale, so light of a blond it matches the stars that accompany him on his journey home. Yet she is truly a beautiful creature, as pure as the crisp night. 

She doesn't wake up until the next night; he's been watching over her as she sleeps. She stirs, finally moving her limbs from the ball she's been curled into. She sits up, pushing back the covers of the bed. He smiles at her and she stares at him with dark eyes.

“You okay, eh?” He asks. She cocks her head in confusion.

“Ça va?” He tries again. This seems to make more sense to her and she proceeds to speak in a language that he only understands every few words.

“Je suis Matthew.” He says, pointing at himself. 

“Mathieu?” she asks.

He nods. “Oui. Et toi, tu t'appelles?”

She frowns, looking down at her hands. “Belle?” She states, though it sounds like she isn't certain.

“Ou est ton parents?”

She shrugs, “Disparu.”

“Est-ce que tu besoin aider?” she smiles and shakes her head.

“Non.” Her stomach rumbles.

“Ah oui, nourriture.” He stands up. She tries to stand up as well, but ends up falling. Her legs are thin, obviously not used in the past while. That's when he notices how frail she is.

“Belle.” He reached down to help her up, but she only stumbles again. He wraps her arms around his neck and then carries her out of the room and into kitchen.

She speaks French before she speaks English. Within a week she has figured out the language. They talk about small things and again he asks about her parents.

“Mes pères est morts.”

“Je suis désole.”

“Ça va, leur mort quand je suis très petite.” She smiles at him. “Et vous? Ou étés votre parents?”

“Dans une autre pays de monde.”

“Oh... je suis désolée.” he laughs at how sad she seems to be for his parents.

“Je vous visite de temps de temps.” Her eyes widen at that. She always seems to be amazed by the common things of life. Belle was enraptured by the toaster the first time she saw it used.

There are other things he notices about her. She doesn't eat or sleep much and she's almost as quiet as he is. She's a very fast learner and as soon as she has her mind set on something, she will eventually do it. Slowly she is becoming less dependent on him; she now stumbles around his house, using walls to help support herself. It isn't until Gilbert comes over that Matthew truly starts to think that there is a lot more to Belle than it seems.

"Birdie! Who's the kid?” The albino asks as he barges into Matthew's kitchen one morning. Belle is sitting at the table, her legs swinging back and forth, a pen and paper in front of her. She is trying to learn to write, but her letters are spindly and full of sharp angles.

“Her name’s Belle. I found her in the woods. Her parents are dead and she loves the toaster. That's all I know about her.” Matthew says, not turning from the pancakes he is making.

“Hey kid.”

“Bonjour.” she states, not looking up from the letter she is trying to form. “Comme étés-vous?” Then she looks up. Her eyes widen as she sees him.

“Yeah, red eyes kid, and I don't speak French.”

“Non, non, non! Vous étés Prusse!”

“Ja, and?” Gilbert asks, nonplussed. That starts a torrent of her language, her dark eyes taking everything about him. She stands up on her wobbly legs and pokes him as if to make sure he is real. Gilbert catches her as she falls over. They proceed to talk, Belle seems not too sure in the language; Matthew knows enough German to know that what they are speaking is not the language.  Belle eventually leaves to stumble somewhere else. Matthew turns to Gilbert.

“What language?” He demands.

“Prussian.”

It takes a while, but finally Matthew trusts Belle with walking without support, though walking doesn't seem to fully encompass what she does. She glides as if she's never quite touching the ground. He allows her to accompany him into town and he is able to buy her proper clothes.

She holds his hand quite happily as the long silver dress he found her in flows around her adding to the ethereal vision she is. It doesn't take long for him to realize that he had no idea what he is doing. That is when he calls his papa for help. After a rapid conversation, it is decided that as soon as Matthew gets her the very basics, they need to visit so that the flamboyant man help dress the child. Matthew and Belle continue to buy her clothes.

Matthew is still not sure why he's keeping her, but something about her makes him unable to let her go. Maybe it is the fact that she can remember his name; maybe it is the fact that she is such a beautiful creature.

She doesn't sleep much, in the two months they've known each other he's only seen her truly sleep once. She rests occasionally, but for the most part she is up and about. The most interesting thing about her is how curious she is. Everything is amazing to her and the toaster still entrances her.

How Matthew found out that Belle was not much of a sleeper was when he went down stairs one morning to find his toaster in ruins. Parts are strewn across the kitchen and Belle is in the center of it all, peering at the heating coils.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“I wanted to know how it works.” She says with an innocent grin, “But don't worry, I can repair it and it'll toast better.”

“You can do that?”

Belle nods with a happy smile. “Oh yes! That,” She says pointing to a part, “Was loose, it was messing up the temperature gauges.” She continues to play around with the heating coil, staring at it as if it is one of the most beautiful things she has ever seen. And sure enough, over the next while all of his electronics are taken apart, examined and put back together in ways that makes them work better.

“She needs to go to school, you know.” His father says over tea.

“And do what?”

“Learn, do maths, and things of that nature.”

“Arthur, she's doing advanced algebra for fun, she can build things that are beyond most people. She would be better suited for university but she's too naive to go to a school with that many people.” Matthew states with a shake of his head.

“You have you tell them about her.”

“I know. I just don't know how well she'll do. She's so excitable and they'll only be curious about her.”

“It's going to get out that you found her. Gossip spreads...”

“Like wild fire between us.” Matthew sighs.

Belle doesn't really like to be touched; she doesn't even like Matthew's pet Kumajirou. Yet everyone once in a while she seems to miss someone and wants to be cuddled. She's curled up against Matthew, tucked under his chin. She's playing with his hand, her small fingers intertwining with his.

“You're like me, right?” she asks in a small voice.

“What do you mean?”

“You're more than just Matthew. Like Gilbert, how he is also Prusse.”

“Yes.” He says. “I am Canada and to an extent Kumimiki is as well. What else are you?”

She speaks in her language. “I believe your lore has another name for me, but I cannot tell you for sure. But you know of me.” They fall into silence; he threads his hand into her hair.

“There are more of us.” He states after a while.

“Oui. Prusse et Anglais...” She nods. “There are more, but I could not name them in this language.” She speaks in her language, listing names. “I miss them.”

“How old are you?”

“Compared to some, I am old, yet what I am is young, though long thought of.” With that she wriggles out of his arms and smiles at him. “I don't know how to say it, but I do.”

Matthew first learns that there is darkness within her when his brother comes over. Belle is far from shy, she's only solitary, but when Alfred comes over, she shies.

“Yo bro! Who's the chick?”

“Belle.” Matthew says, “Belle, this is my brother Alfred. Belle?”

“Non.” She mutters, hiding behind Matthew's legs. “Non, non, non, non!”

“Pourquoi? Alfred est pas mal. Très forte, oui, mais il est bon.”

“Non!” She shakes her head. Alfred peers around his brother.

“C'mon Belle, I don't bite.” He says jokingly.

She looks at him, her dark eyes piercing. “I know you, I know of the pain you cause, the lies you spread, the dreams you shatter, and the hopes you crush.”

“Whoa, chill out chick, I'm not all that bad.” Alfred laughs.

She stares at him unblinkingly. “Oh say does that star spangled banner yet wave, over the land of the free? And the home of the brave?” She says; her tone is disgusted. “Yes, I know you. You have hurt me, you are hurting me, and you will continue hurting me. I hate you.” With that, she shoves Alfred out of her way knocking him to the ground and runs out into the night.

She is truly a beautiful creature. Hours later Matthew finds her, sitting up in a tree. She is most beautiful in the moonlight, her long hair fluttering in the breeze. Her pale skin glows in the moon's rays. The gentle light makes her eyes soft as she looks down at him after he calls her. She turns to face him, “I am sorry for my behavior.” She says, her words hanging in the air like the stars that illuminate the sky.

“He'll survive, he's a big boy. It wasn't the first time someone has insulted him and it won't be the last.” Matthew says, “Still, you should apologize, maybe you can help him to stop hurting you.”

“Non, that is how it must go. C'est la vie.” She says quietly. She frowns and sighs. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, we can.” he smiles, “As soon as you come down. Do you need help?” She shakes her head and lets herself fall the twenty feet to the ground. The forest floor rushes to meet her, but she lands lightly on the ground and smiles. He grabs her extended hand and they walk home hand in hand.

The first time she meets his hockey rival, the reaction is not what Matthew expects. The large, childish man is his usual unnerving self. Yet somehow, this does not disturb the beautiful creature. Even when his pipe comes out as he is talking, she is unfazed.

“Mister Ivan, can I ask you something?” She asks in her normal childish voice when he finishes his latest tale.

“Da.” He says with one of his creepiest smiles.

“Why do you try to hide the fact you have a soft heart?”

“What?” he sounds incredulous.

“I mean, it's very well maintained, but I know what you are and it's obvious.” She hops down from her perch on the counter where Matthew put her so that she could defrost from watching their hockey game. She smiles up at the large man and does something she hasn't done to Matthew without prompting. She hugs him, her small arms not quite reaching around his middle. Then she pulls him down to her level and looks into his purple eyes. “You mean well and your heart means well. Just let those intentions run you, not the expectations of others.”

Surprisingly, all Ivan does is nod because it's as if she's looked into his soul, and in many ways, she has.

He'd never thought he'd find a person who was more comfortable with seeing people in the nude than his papa. Yet Belle does not even blanch when one day she walks in on him in the middle of changing. She came in looking for a band aide; she somehow cut herself while making breakfast.

She runs over, reverting to French, the language she seems more comfortable using instead of English. “Mathieu! Mathieu! J'ai blesse!”

He is in nothing more than his boxers and blushes as she shows him her injury. He helps her get it covered with a bandage. He wipes away her tears as she sniffles into his bare chest. This is the first time she's gotten hurt and he wonders as how low her pain tolerance is. Eventually the tears stop and she's left with a neon orange band aide around her pointer finger.

She follow him out of his bathroom ask him questions about what happens now. “Will this hurt the more than me?”

“It shouldn't, only things one by others like us tends to affect us in those ways.”

“So the fact the Kumajirou gave it to me won't do anything?”

“How did Kuma give you that?”

“We couldn't get his fish open so he used his claws.” She states, sitting on Matthew's bed. “Then he missed a bit and so I came to get you.”

“Go make sure he hasn't eaten all of it. He's on a diet you know.”

“Can't you come with me? His claws are very scary!”

“Yes, let me get dressed first?” She nods, but doesn't move from the bed. “Eh, I have to change my boxers.” He says with a blush, “You shouldn't see me change them.”

“Why not? It's nothing I haven't seen before.”

“Eh?”

She nods again, swinging her legs back and forth. “I see a lot of things. I do not mind, it is who I am.” Then she hops down from the bed, “But if you care not comfortable, I shall face Kuma's claws alone.”

She is truly a beautiful creature; Matthew's papa is entranced in a way that has not occurred since he met his first love the minute he sees her. He plays with her fingers, strokes her long pale hair, and cannot, for once, find a fashion that would suit her.

“It would be a tragedy to dress her in anything too fancy, for it would distract from her natural beauty. Yet anything understated would not fit her class and her visage.” He says, “Why not even I could find something that brings out all of her beauty for she is just stunning.”

“Merci, monsieur. “ She giggles, enjoying the attentions of the flamboyant man.

“But do not worry mes chers! I shall rise to the challenge!” She wriggles away from the kisses he tried to place on her cheeks, stating some childish nonsense about cooties.

“Désole papa, she does not like kisses. “ Matthew says, for she has never truly let him kiss her, not even her finger when it was injured.

“It is fine; she is not the first beautiful girl to shy from my charms.” His papa says with a laugh. “And children will be children. I remember you being that young.”

Matthew laughs, “That was a long time ago.”

When Gilbert visits, his stiff, strict brother is there, face set in his usual, vaguely pained expression. Belle greets Gilbert with relative joy, starting to chatter him almost immediately.

“Belle, this is mien bruder, Ludwig.  Luddy, this is her.” Belle smiles at the stern man.

“I don't know how to say it,” she says with a giggle. “But you are.”

“What do you mean?” He asks with a frown.

“That despite what you think, you are and you are worth it.” With that she turned back to Gilbert and continues to natter at him.

“Matthew.” Ludwig says stiffly, “She's got to come in, she's one of us.”

“I know, and she will when she is ready.”

She is truly a beautiful creature, but she is fragile. It takes almost a month for her scratch from Kuma to heal. Matthew's friend Lars comes over one day. Belle happily greets him, but soon loses interest in him. She wanders off as she is prone to do, padding down the hall and away from the two men.

When Lars pulls out a joint, Matthew laughs and they head outside to smoke it.  Matthew doesn't worry about Belle because except from that one scratch, she's never been ill or injured. So it comes as a shock when he hears the sounds of coughing coming from the house.

He stands up, hands the joint to Lars and goes off to see what the problem is with her. He finds her supporting herself against a wall, body shuddering as coughs tear through her. Tears are streaming down her face and she gasps for air.

“Belle, are you alright?” He asks. She shakes her head violently. “Do you need something?” She nods, “What can I do?”

“Make it stop!” She manages to gasp out before she collapses against him, coughs renewing in full force.

They take her to the doctor's and Matthew is told that she is asthmatic. She is given several inhalers, some pills to take at night, and is put on a strong cough syrup. On the drive home she falls asleep.

Lars looks over at Matthew, “Who can she be if she is so damaged?”

Matthew sighs, not looking up from the road. “I don't know, she does not have a word for it in this language, she looked through many books, but she cannot tell me.”

Matthew finally thinks she is worldly wise enough to accompany him to work. He warns his boss about her, how fragile she is, yet still his boss is looking forward to meeting the beautiful creature. Matthew dresses her in her best, a long plain dress that his papa found for her. He doesn't need to warn her about being on her best behavior, for she has beautiful manners, but he can tell she is nervous.

“Don't worry, he's not bad.”

“But he is a politician!” she says as they walk into the building.

“Yes, he is, but that just means he's influential, to be influential doesn't mean you have to be bad.”

“Just don't leave me alone with him, s'il te plait.”

He laughs and pulls her into a brief hug, “You'll be safe and I promise I won't leave you alone.”

“I don't know the correct words, but I do.” She says with a smile, squeezing him. She holds his hand as they enter his boss’s office.

She is finally taken in during the fall; the trip to France is completely nerve wracking for her. She asks over and over, “Why don't we fall out of the sky?”

Matthew cannot answer her question well enough for her, but manages to quiet her when he tells her of imaginary numbers and how that correlates to not falling out of the sky. For the rest of the trip, she happily plays with imaginary numbers and draws with her box of crayons.

When they touch down and exit the plane, she shows Matthew's papa the plans for the airplane they were on, drawn in all the colors of the rainbow. Francis laughs, complimenting her on her hard work. Belle holds Matthew's hand as they enter out into the sunlight.

She isn't actually let into the meeting; she is forced to stay outside until they decide what to do with her. Matthew stays with her as long as possible introducing her to the people who bother to notice them. A boy who seems to be her age comes over to introduce himself. They chatter, talking about things that only children seem to truly care about.

“Who do you live with?” He asks, wide eyes looking into hers intently.

“I live with a man and his bear. People come to visit occasionally, but it is peaceful. And sometimes there are more than just the bear, there is also a rabbit.”

“He has a rabbit?”

She nods proudly, “Yes, it lives in his yard.” It is then that the meeting starts and Matthew has to enter the meeting room.

When the break comes and the adults are let out of the meeting room, she tugs on Matthew's arm and pulls him down to her level. She whispers into his ear at points at the pair of redheaded twins. The grumpier of the two notices her pointing at them.

“What the hell are you looking at?” he demands of the beautiful creature.

She blinks up at him. “You still don't look like a boot.” She states with a confused look. The grumpier twin opens his mouth to complain, but is silenced by his younger brother.

“Ve! We are going out for pasta! Do you want to come with us? Who's your friend? It is good to see you make new friends!” he rattles off at rapid speed, wrapping his arms his brother who looks disgruntled. When his brother pauses for air is the first time he actually looks at her. He deflates, eyes becoming sad as he regards her. “It is you.”

“Yes.” she says, “I am me.”

He turns his sad eyes to Ludwig, “I can't go to pasta; something just came up.” He grabs Belle's dainty hand, “We need to talk, Lovino, come on.”

Matthew tries to follow them, but Belle shakes her head. “Non, non, nous avons besoin d'être seul.” She says with a small smile.

The twins arrive back late to the meeting, each holding one of her pale hands. Even though she is not allowed in, she pulls them beck before they enter, even though the door is open. She frowns, “I don't know how to say this in this language, but I do, both of you.” Then she lets them enter the meeting room.

She sits on the hotel bed; her feet swinging back and forth, people are coming over to see her, so she cannot get out of her nice clothes quite yet. Matthew has gotten out of his suit and is brushing Kumajirou.

“What were you and the twins talking about that required you to be alone?” Matthew asks 

“My father,” She says with a sigh, “He's gone.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay; I already knew he was gone. But it's been so long... They say he shows up from time to time, but never stays.” She frowns. “But I'm not alone.”

“No, you're not.” He agrees with her.

“Matthew?” She pipes up after a few moments of silence, “I wish I knew how to say this, but I do, I really do.”

Matthew laughs softly, patting the sofa next to him, “I know you do. And I do too. So does Kuma, though he'll never admit it.”

She sits down next to him, resting her head on his arm. “I wish I could say it.”

“I know you'll find the words eventually.”

“It's because there isn't enough of it in the world, I think that is why I can't say it.” She sounds upset. 

“Shh... it's fine.” he murmurs wrapping his arm around her. “The words will be found when they are found.”

It takes three days, but finally they decide she must be allowed into the meetings. The deciding factor is when the twins state that she will find out either way.When they are asked how they can be certain of that, they shrug, mumbling something incoherent.

They send Matthew out to get her, but he finds her curled up on a sofa, fast asleep. He tells them that she has fall asleep and cannot be roused. Some object, telling him to try again, but it is Ivan who silences the room.

“Let the child rest, da?” he says standing up with his smile in place. “Matvey, I'll kelp you get her to your room.” Matthew nods and they head out of the meeting room. Ivan picks up the beautiful creature, even though Matthew is perfectly capable of carrying her. They go to his room and lay her on the bed.

“There is no moon tonight.”

“Yeah, new moon tonight.” Matthew agrees. He pokes Kumajirou, “Make sure she's safe?”

She doesn't wake up until the final meeting is over.  The other are heading off to an end of the week party, but Matthew decides that he should take care of Belle instead of going to a bar. She is sleepy, but definitely awake. She's too tired to use English, yet still manages to request in French to go see Gilbert, Francis and the third one. Matthew is not entirely certain what she means by the third one, but he calls up his papa and friend anyways.

It is unlike them to stay at the hotel, but Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio stay behind to talk to the beautiful creature. She is shy around Antonio until Francis decides to introduce her.

“Belle, this is Antonio, Antonio, this is Belle.”

“Bella Luna.” The passionate man says with a grin.

“Si.” she says with a smile.

“I haven't seen you for ages, mi querida. I had wondered if it was you.” He says, smile becoming fond.

“I am as real as I was then, if not more so now.” She says. They talk late into the night and Matthew finally gets a clue as to how old the beautiful creature is. She speaks with such familiarity to the three men, despite their age difference. At the end of the night, she holds Antonio's hand and looks at him, “I don't-”

“Know how to say it, but I know you do, though I don't always understand why.” He says for her, “I know the words you want, however they will never be enough for you.” He draws her close and whispers in her ear. She nods.

“They are good words, but they don't mean enough.” She says, “Thank you.”

She starts to keep a notebook of words that are ‘nice, but don't mean enough.’ Matthew doesn't try to read the book and its words. He knows what she wants to say, but he can't think of the words that will work better for her. Nevertheless he leaves her words on pillows, post-it notes, and other such things, in hopes one might work. They disappear but she never thanks him for them. He doesn't expect her to and can only assume it is because the words are not enough and don't fully encompass what she is trying to say.

Visitors are common occurrence now; even his prime minister invites them over for dinner.

“So what is the relationship between you two” asks his minister's wife.

Belle looks up at Matthew and smiles, “He's mine.” She says adoringly, “And I'm his.”

The minister's wife laughs, “Which means?”

“He takes care of me.” She says her smile widening. “And he gives me words. Good words, but not the right words.”

“Words?” She asks sounding a bit confused.

“Yes, words. Beautiful words, but words I cannot use. They do not mean enough.” The beautiful creature says, looking somber. “I don't know how he feels about me, but, while the words aren't right, I do.”

They visit Matthew’s father in London and they sit and talk over tea. Belle tried the tea but decides that really she wants to go play in the rain. Arthur takes a sip of his tea before leaning forward to talk to his son.

“You know what she could be?” He says seriously.

“I have lots of theories, but they don't really matter.” Matthew shrugs. 

“She could be a changeling.” Arthur says. “She is a truly beautiful creature, too beautiful for this world.”

“Then how can she be like us, being more than just-” he leaves the thought hanging.

“She's still not truly of this world.” His father says.

“Oh, I know.” Matthew responds with a sigh. “But she is such a beautiful creature.”

Out of all this friends, it is Ivan who is most captivated by her. He comes over to play hockey more often and he always bring a present. At first it is small, a large sunflower then more personal things, a small toy. Yet it is the gift of language that is the most meaningful.

Russian doesn't come as easily to her as French did, but Ivan is a surprisingly patient teacher. “Russian is hard, Солнышко моё, but you are lucky to be learning from me. You can only learn true Russian from a true Russian.”

“But I am bad at it.” She says morosely.

“You do not have to be perfect anytime soon.” Ivan reassures her.

“But people expect so much of me.” She states, “I must try.”

“Do not let what others expect of you to dictate who you are.”

Belle looks at him with mirth in her eyes. Then she sticks out her tongue at him. He laughs and with that the lesson is over. Matthew can't help but smile as they begin to goof off. Belle wraps the end of his scarf around her neck and they suddenly look very alike; the child in the man's body and the woman in the child's body.

When Ivan leaves, Belle walks over to where Matthew is reading a book and crawls into his lap. “Why does he hide his soft heart?”

“Because all people try to hide their hearts no matter how hard or soft they may be.” He says softly, running a hand through her pale hair. “Hearts can be taken advantage of.”

“I have a soft heart.” she mumbles, “Will people take advantage of my heart?”

“You are young,” He says, “It is wrong to take advantage of your heart for fear it would become hard.”

She nuzzles into his cheek, not quite giving him a kiss. “I haven't found quite how to say it, but I do.”

He wakes up to her screaming. He runs to her room and from what he cans tell, she had been reading a book which has now been flung across the room. She thrashes on her bed; the smell of acid permeates the air. Her pale legs are being eaten away. He tries to help her, but as soon as it starts, the acid vanishes. He rushes her to the hospital where the doctors heal her to the best of their ability. But after a few days, there is nothing more that they can do for her and they send her home. Yet again, she cannot walk.

She is truly a beautiful monster. She’s home alone when some men break in. She calls Matthew immediately, but the men walk in on her trying to tell him what is happening. “Put down the phone little girl.” Matthew hears a man say over the phone.

“Non, monsieur!” She cries out and he can hear the phone hit the floor.

“Tell us where the valuables are in the house!” the man orders.

“Je ne sais pas! S’il vous plait monsieur!” There is the crack of flesh hitting flesh.

“I know you understand me, now answer the question! Where are your valuables?”

She laughs a laugh that Matthew has never heard before. It is hollow and dark, “Oh, you chose the wrong person to mess with.”

“What are you going to do, little girl? Set your toys on us?”

“The man I live with is important.”

“You are on crutches, girly; it would be easy to kidnap you!”

“You’ve crossed the line.” She chirrups; Matthew can practically hear her smile. “It doesn’t matter if who I live with is rich or powerful, it doesn’t matter if I am reduced to crutches and the laws of this place, because now you are threatening me. You’ve entered my territory.”

Matthew hears the phone be picked up as suddenly things become muffled.

“I’ll give you all the same chance.” Belle states, “I’m fair, if you survive, I’ll let you live; die, and I won’t.” The bed creaks as she moves her weight. “You, talker, you are first. Come here.” 

“What are you going to do?” He scoffs.

“Just this.” She says softly. The man starts to protest but is silenced by something. Then he starts to scream, though it is more muffled than the conversation. His screams stop and there is a gasp from the others.

“Hmm… not strong enough. Next?”

“Please! No!” Another voice begs.

“You are chatty; too, you’ll be next then.” The screaming starts again. Matthew blinks as the line drops, his connection finally dropping even though he has never lost connection within his country.

It takes another month for her to be able to walk well enough for it to be safe for her to go to another meeting. Even though Spain is warm, she wears pants. Matthew realizes that she is ashamed of her legs now that they are marred from the burns.

Matthew is surprised when the first person Belle wants to see is not Ivan but Alfred. She knocks on his doors and it opens to show Alfred peering out. “What d’ya want?”

“Stop being paranoid, I don’t bite.” She says to him. “I need to apologize for my behavior.”

He looks at her suspiciously, but she is a truly beautiful creature and so he lets her in. It is awkward for the first few moments, but eventually she breaks the silence. “I’m sorry I said I hated you, I don’t.” her words hang in the room. “And I’m sorry I shoved you.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” He says looking down at his hands.

She shakes her head. “It’s alright, if it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else and you fixed the problem so quickly, you’re such a hero.”

Alfred grins, “I am the hero!”

She pays attention to the first hour or so of the meeting, but then she and the more cheerful of the twins start to doodle on her pad of paper that Matthew got for her. He draws suns, tomatoes, and pasta; she draws moons, stars, and bears. His twin grumbles about immaturity, but then she gives him a picture and a sheet of blank paper and he begrudgingly starts to draw with them.

At the beginning of the lunch break, Matthew has every intention to scold her; that is until she presses a picture into his hand. It’s Kumajirou under the moon and is surprisingly accurate. She grabs his hand and looks up at him with her large eyes, “I would have drawn you, but I am not good enough to capture how beautiful you are.”

He laughs and hugs her close, “Thank you.”

“De rien.” She smiles.

She is supposed to give a talk on what has been going on in her realm, but when she gets up there, all that comes out if her funny language.  She squeaks and tries again, only to have her language come out again. She flushes and stutters; someone snickers, tears appear in her eyes. As Matthew gets up to get her, he is surprised to find that the grumpier of the two twins is already up there. 

“You’re Goddamn bastard, whoever you are.”He says to the room at large and he wraps an arm around her, guiding her back to her seat. She starts to cry in earnest as they walk back with everyone watching them. Ivan stops the two and takes her from the twin, letting her sob into his shoulder. He wraps an end of his scarf around her neck and lets her cry.

Instead of going to one of Spain’s many bars, it is decided that they should head out to the beach. The waves are high, higher than what is normal, yet it does not concern them. The beautiful creature is ashamed of her legs, the pales blotches are a reminder as to what has happened. Yet none of the assembled truly care, the all have scars of their own. Eventually she takes off her skirt and plays in the water.

The afternoon passes quickly and it is soon the sun has set. Matthew and the beautiful creature stay behind with a few others, seeing their way around by the pale glow of the moon. Antonio takes his guitar and starts strumming idly. The grumpier twin is leaning against his shoulder, for once not scowling at anything, but seeming content as the man plays. Arthur is curled up in Francis’s lap and Matthew smiles at the site of them. They are oblivious to the world at large, hands entwined in a lover’s hold. The beautiful creature is playing in the still warm sand, looking out at the sea. For now, the world is at peace as a lazy Spanish guitar filling the silence between the waves.

A second instrument joins the fist and Belle stands up; a voice is singing. She rushes forward; plunging into the water thought she cannot swim and repeat one word over and over again in a frantic mantra. Matthew is swimming after her, but the waves are large and he is making remarkably slower progress than the beautiful creature. Somehow she manages to swim to a boat that is rocking gently in the waves just short of the horizon. She pulls herself up onto the boat, hair wet and shinning in the moonlight.

Belle cries out as someone on the boat tries to shove her off into the water. She pleads with whoever is trying to send her back into the ocean. A feeling washes over Matthew, a feeling he hasn’t felt since he helped free Lars all those years ago. Adrenaline kicks in and Matthew resumes his swim with desperate vigor.

The darker hair of the two men on in the boat snarls at the beautiful creature, dragging her by her hair back to the edge of the boat. Matthew was taught enough Latin as a boy to understand that what the man is saying to the terrified girl, yet what is said confuses Matthew even more than the man’s actions. She begs him to let go, trying to get away from him.

His partner watches the two yet does nothing to help either. Matthew wants the other man to do something to help the crying child. They look similar, both the still man and the frightened child are pale with long hair. They both hide a darker side behind their fair facades, but unlike the girl, he does not have tears staining his cheeks.

Finally Matthew reaches the side of the boat. He drags himself up the side and falls ungracefully into it. He stood up on unsteady feet. “Arrêtez!” He says, trying to get the crying child away from the man holding her. The blonde man finally moves grabbing Matthew around the neck and putting him into a head lock. Matthew hasn’t had to fight for years, but instinct takes over. A pinch to the man’s inner thigh loosens the pale man’s hold. Flipping him over his shoulder and into the water is easy for Matthew. The man manages to grab a handful of Matthew’s shirt and they are both in the water. The man says something that Matthew only barely understands.

“I know!” He pants, “And I don’t care. I love her, even if she isn’t.” The pale man looks down at Matthew critically before heaving himself back into the boat. There is a splash and Matthew watches as Belle sinks down into the water. Matthew has never been the best of divers, but nevertheless he dives after her. Even in the salty water, he can tell she is crying. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her up towards the surface. She is shuddering against him, but is, thankfully, breathing. The swim back to shore is slightly easier; he no longer has to fight the waves.

Arthur meets him halfway to shore, helping Matthew take Belle back to safety. The beautiful creature hangs between them, still shaking, but otherwise not moving. When get to the shore, she collapses against the sand, crying and coughing excess water that stains the sand.

“Bella Luna?” Antonio scoops her up as Francis clutches both Matthew and Arthur to him. The girl is sobbing in earnest now. “Mi querida?” He breathes into her as he tries to warm and calm her. Matthew does not hear the rest of their conversation because Francis is fussing over bother of them in rapid French. Matthew has to reassure Francis that he is fine. All he knows is that it is Lovino who finally calms the beautiful creature.

“Belle, get over it.” The grumpier twin says, “Douches happen, shit, I’m a douche, but don’t let bastards affect you. Fuck, if you are going to let that old fart upset you, you haven’t gotten a chance.” Matthew sees the beautiful creature open her mouth to object. “For fucks sake, yes, you are worthy of love! Now fucking smile and stop whining. You’re upsetting the tomato bastard.” She sniffles, but smiles; she’s never looked more human.

They spend an extra day in Spain. They do not travel, but stay in the hotel all day. For once, Belle wants to be held all day. They watch movies, he reads to her, they talk about everything except what happened the night before. She spaces out every so often, staring out into nowhere. Matthew doesn’t comment about the spacey behavior, but he knows everything is not all right with the beautiful creature. They are halfway through a show about the world’s space programs when she finally speaks about what is troubling her.

“Do you l-… do you l-… me?” She asks softly, the words sticking to her tongue.

He looks down at her; she’s curled against his chest, pale hair messy. “Of course I do.”

“Why?” she asks, still staring at the TV screen.

“You see people for who they are, you don’t assume things, you always mean well, and you are so beautiful. Belle, why do you ask?”

The beautiful creature stares blankly at the screen as the show a moon rock. “Don’t they know that any discoveries they can make they have already made? The world is wasting their money on space. There is no use for it yet. It’s not going anywhere, why do they bother?”

When they return to Canada, they find Alfred in their home. “Yo, Mr. Tony wanted to see Belle, said it was urgent. I heard about what happened man, that sucks.” Matthew doesn’t bother telling off his twin for breaking in again.

“And where is Mr. Tony, eh?” He asks.

“No idea, he was with me when I got here, but now I can’t find him. He shouldn’t be far. I only arrived three hours ago.” Alfred says with a shrug. “So, could you, like, make me some of your awesome pancakes?”

Matthew merely rolls his eyes, ‘”Of course. Belle, you want any? Belle?” The beautiful creature is heading upstairs to her room. Matthew frowns at her receding figure.

“Don’t worry about her bro, she’s probably tired.” Matthew sighs, knowing his brother is right; she is coming to the end of her sleep cycle. Matthew listens to Alfred chatter at him as he makes pancakes. Alfred natters on about a new videogame he got and how they should play it together. Finally they can’t avoid the topic. “So… what happened after I left?” Alfred asks as nonchalantly as possible.

“I don’t really know.” Matthew shrugs. “One minute we’re sitting around and Belle is playing in the sand, the next, she’s swimming out into the water. I don’t know why. It’s not as if she could have known the people on the boat. Those two… she’s not old enough.”

Alfred shakes his head. “Look at you Mattie! All grown up and living with a girl.”

Matthew scoffs at him, “It’s not like that.” He says, “She’s just showed up one day and she’s never left.”

Alfred sniffs dramatically. “All grown up, I’m so proud.” Matthew whacks him with his spatula. “But seriously bro, why did you keep her? It isn’t as if she’s one of yours.”

Matthew flips over the pancake he is cooking and doesn’t respond. He still is unsure himself.

Belle is sad when Alfred and Mr. Tony have to go home. It ends up she and Mr. Tony talked for the two days that Alfred was visiting. About what, she will not say, but she is much calmer than she was before the visit.

There is a formal party that Matthew has to attend in full military formals. Belle sits on his bed as he gets dressed, looking at his uniform skeptically.

“Why do you have one?” She asks, “You haven’t been in the military for years. There hasn’t been any need.”

Matthew smooths his collar. “It isn’t if there is need, it’s more of an honorary thing. I was a war hero back in the Great War. I have been in the army; I have earned the right to wear this.” Matthew tried to explain. “I would join the military again if war broke out tomorrow.”

Belle frowns at him, “Will I ever have to wear one of those?”

Matthew sighs and sits down next to her on his bed. “If you are called to duty, the yes, you will. You’ll decide to though, no one will force you.” She curls into him, being careful to not wrinkle his uniform.

“How will I know?” She asks softly.

Matthew looks down at the beautiful creature. “It’s different for everyone. You’ll just know and then you’ll act upon it.” He strokes her hair. “But don’t worry yourself too much, the world is not at war and we are safe.”

She yawns and straightens. “I’m sleepy.” She states.

He laughs softly. “I should think so. Let’s get you to bed.”

“But you are going to be late!” Belle protests.

“It won’t be the first time. Besides, family comes before work, right?”

Belle nods with a small smile. “Family first.”

Belle is asleep when he returns from the party. She is curled up in her bed, Kuma clutched tightly to her chest. Matthew smiles at her, despite all other pretenses, she is just a girl. He stroked her bangs out of her eyes. Her skin is cool against his palm. Matthew stands there; she is so beautiful in the weak starlight that graces her features. He leans over her.

“Je t’aime. Je sais tu n’es pas écouter les mots, mais je t’aime et je t’aimerais. ”  He whispers into her hair. He kisses her forehead and leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Slowly his smile fades and he goes to his phone.

“Birdie? It’s asscrack early, what’s up?”

“It’s only 10am over there.” Matthew sighs. “Do you feel like pancakes?”

“Ja.” The man yawns, “I’ll come over as soon as I can.”

“See you later then, eh?”

“You better know that you and your pancakes are awesome.”

Matthew laughs a tired laugh. “I’ve been told as much.”

Gilbert arrives late the next afternoon, exhausted but smiling. “Birdie, there better be a mountain of pancakes waiting for me.” He says as Matthew embraces him.

“There will be, I just need to cook them.” Matthew smiles at him. He takes Gilbert’s bag and they head into the kitchen. He places the bag on a chair and goes over to the stove, turning it on.

“So what’s been troubling you so much you need the awesome me here?”

“You heard about what happened after the last meeting.” Matthew asks tentatively.

“Ja, the old bastards came and she got hurt.” Gilbert shrugs, feigning indifference.

There is a pause as Matthew pours some batter onto the griddle. “She went to them, repeating a word over and over again.”

“Which would be what?”

“I couldn’t tell you if I want to. It’s in the impossible language of hers.” Matthew sighs, “But that isn’t what matters. Your father said something to me.”

Gilbert looks nonplussed. “Do you remember what he said?” Matthew speaks the words that have been seared into his mind.

Two arms wrap around his waist. Gilbert rests his chin against Matthew’s shoulder. “Matthew, I wish I could tell you, but it’s not my place to tell you. It wasn’t his, it isn’t mine, and she can’t tell you.” He sighs, squeezing Matthew to him. “She’s got to be terrified though. I promise, she knows what is going to happen and she is feeling so alone. The awesome me should know, I was there at one point.”

Matthew flips a pancake. “But what can I do?” He asks softly.

“Just love her. You’re awesome Birdie, keep being yourself.”

There is a pause. “She is, isn’t she?” Matthew says softly, looking back at Gilbert.

“Yes.” There is a yawn. “I am awake.” Belle is standing, braid hanging over her shoulder. She yawns again. “Hello, Gilbert.”

“Hey, chickie.” Gilbert says, smiling at her. 

“That’s awfully American for you.” She says, cocking her head to the side.

“I’m too awesome to be like Alfred.” Gilbert laughs, “No, Matt’s Birdie, you’re his chick.” Gilbert finally detangles himself from Matthew, leaning against the counter casually, “Ergo, you are chickie. Have any awesome dreams.”

“No.” she says, “Not this time.”

“That’s not awesome.” Gilbert says, looking sad for her.

“No, it’s concerning. Dream help you process information that you have learned or experienced. Given the amount of information I have learned, I should be going mad right now from the lack of dreams I am experiencing.”

“You talk like a textbook, you know that chickie?” Gilbert laughs and he gets down plates for the three of them.

“What’s a textbook?” she asks, blinking at him.

“You know. Those horrible things used in school?” She shakes her head. “Don’t you have schools?”

“No.” She states, “My people already know more than the really need to.”

“Lucky them.” Gilbert says, “I have to read all the unawesome text books West doesn’t want to read himself. All little kid books too, as if I can’t read books meant for anyone over the age of 12! It’s-“

“Pancakes.” Matthew states cutting off Gilbert’s rant.

“You’re awesome.” Gilbert says with his half-mad grin.

Ivan visits a few weeks later, bringing along a package for both Belle and Matthew. It’s a pair of white ice skates in Belle’s size. “Now you can have some help when we play.” Ivan tells Matthew is confused by how the gift is also for him. Matthew gives him a dirty look and Ivan laughs.

“She is not playing hockey with us.” Matthew states bluntly.

“Ah, but you are going to teach her.” Ivan states.

Matthew smiles, “Let see how she takes to the ice first.”

She takes to the ice with such little grace, it’s unlike her. She clutches to the two men who are amused with how unskilled she is. She never truly falls; Ivan always manages to catch her before she crashes into the ice. Matthew decides to stop when he can tell she is near tears with frustration. He scoops her up and glides across the ice, making sharp turns and twists before placing her gently on the solid ground.

He helps her balance as she takes off her skates and steps into her boots. She biting her lip and looking at the ice with a cold eye. Matthew can tell she is not happy with herself. He hugs her and they go inside, Ivan following after them. Matthew puts away the pairs of skates on a high shelf with the rest of his hockey gear.

Her asthma becomes worse and the doctors want them to move out of the cold. He’s willing to do so, but he can tell that she feels bad about the whole affair.

“It’s not your fault you’re ill.” He says as they eat dinner one night.

“But I can’t ask you to leave here, it’s your home.” She says looking down at her plate.

“I have more than one house, Belle, it’s no trouble. I like it here, but your health is more important. And home is where we make it.” Matthew learns forward and holds one of her hands in his. “Don’t worry about me, just focus on betting better.”

She sniffs, wiping at her eyes. “Je ne veux pas…” She says shakily. “I didn’t mean to get sick.”

Matthew gets out of his chair and goes over to her. He wipes away a stray tear that she has missed. “Shh... I know Belle, I know.”

Matthew doesn’t really think she should go to the next meeting, but she insists she has to go. It is in America this time and Alfred holds it in New York despite the awful weather that the city has been having because it is closer to Matthew’s home. Alfred says it is because he wants to show them a new musical after the meeting, but it is an old show and is only new to New York.

It is rather uneventful for the first few days, formalities are made, chaos ensues, and not much is accomplished. Belle sits next to Matthew, resting her head against his shoulder for the majority of the meeting, not quite sleeping, yet not quite awake. When on the third day she develops a more pronounced cough, Matthew draws the line and keeps her in the hotel the next day.

It is easier said than done for the beautiful creature is very stubborn, insisting she has to give a speech this time. Matthew relents stating that if she rests in the morning, he will let her to go the afternoon portion of the meeting so that she can make her speech she had prepared.

When they are released for lunch, Matthew returns to his room to see the beautiful creature lying on the bed, idly stroking Kumjirou, looking out at the weather outside.

“You are certain you want to give the speech?” Matthew says softly, sitting down on the bed next to beautiful creature. “Belle, no one will judge you if you aren’t feeling well enough to go to the meeting. You are young and an economic down turn that wouldn’t affect us is going to be a lot harder for you.”

“It’s just not my economy.” She says softly, not looking at Matthew. “It’s also my people. All the faith is there, just none of the… the…” she mutters a word from her own language. “Faith is not enough to keep me here. Gilbert, maybe; me, no.” She rolls over so her head is in his lap. “I have to make this speech, I don’t know…”

“You’re dying, aren’t you?” Matthew says softly.

“Yes and no.” She closes her eyes. “I’m leaving. Again. I’ve never not been. From the first time a human thought of me, I have been. I just haven’t been here since the beginning.” She sits up, pulling her braided hair over her shoulder. “Matthew, I’m old. I am a child in form, but I am so old. I remember so much; wars, peace, births, and deaths. And every so often I could be here, but I have had to leave so many times. You asked me my name once, what I was.”

“Yes.” Matthew says, staring at her. “I tried to figure it out.”

“You’ve been looking in the wrong places. You’re lore says I’m a man, which I was once. Heracles’ lore says I am a woman.” She murmurs.

“So what are you; who are you?”

Belle merely shrugs, “Right now, I am Belle Williams; tomorrow I may be someone else. I am what people believe me to be.” She places a small hand on his cheek. “I have to make this speech while I am me.”

Matthew watches as the beautiful, impossible creature stands up and slips on her gray coat. “You can’t tell me who you are, can you?”

“I could, but with all that I am now, I don’t even know any more.”

Her speech goes well enough, but she starts to cough near the end of it. Body wracking coughs make her clutch to the table. Matthew goes to her and holds her steady until she can manage to use her inhaler. It takes a while but her breathing eventually evens out. She wipes her mouth against her sleeve, a red stain forming on it.

“Belle, ça va?” Matthew queries. When she merely nods in response, Matthew frowns. “Ludwig, I’m afraid we have to leave.” The stern man nods, making no comment.

Matthew picks her up. “Just hold on. I’m going to get you help.”

“Mattieu, il est nul. Je serais morte. C’est ce que je suis.” She murmurs into his ear as they exit the meeting room.

“Belle, I refuse to believe that.” Matthew states tersely as he opens the door to the staircase.

“That’s not even my name.” she says. He knows what she said was not in French or in English.

“Then what is your name?”

“Je ne sais pas.” She coughs and Matthew holds her tight.

“Do I need to call the emergency line?” Matthew asks as he feels something warm spread on his shoulder. He already knows the answer however. No human doctor could ever fix her.

They reach their hotel room and Matthew places her on the bed, propping her up against the pillows. He sits down next to her, whipping off her chin with a tissue. She is pale, even without moonlight to emphasize it. She smiles a small smile at him. “Matthew, I’ll be fine.”

He forces a smile back and her, they both know what she said was not true.

Alfred comes over to their room Saturday morning saying something about dancing. Matthew stares at him blurrily, Belle had been up coughing for most of the night.

“C’mon, what do you say? You, me, Iggy, and Francis! And Belle if she’s up to it. It’ll be small, I promise, just back at my place.”

Matthew yawns, “Yeah, sure. Now let me sleep, eh?”

“Fo sho, bro.” Matthew rolls his eyes and shuts the door. The beautiful creature hadn’t slept well last night, and while she did sleep, Matthew found it more disturbing when she tried to sleep, as opposed to when she did not. Matthew was concerned because, if she were to be consistent, she had another week until she had to sleep, yet she was curled up, breathing lightly on the bed. Matthew sighs and crawls back into bed.

He waked up to the bathroom door slamming shut and Belle coughing. He tumbles out of bed to check on her, only to find the door is locked. “Belle, are you okay?” He calls through the door. She continues to cough and he hears her stumble and crash into the counter. “I don’t want to break down the door, but I will.”

There is the sound of retching and something hitting the ground, then silence. She’s not coughing; she not even wheezing. There is a pause. “I feel better now.” The beautiful creature informs him through the wood.

“Can I come in?” Matthew asks.

“I need a shower, wait a while.” She starts to hum. The shower turns on and her humming is drowned out by the sound of rushing water. Matthew frowns at the door. He knows something is wrong; she’s not musical and she likes to shower at night. She comes out a while later, wrapped in one of the hotel’s fluffy towels.

He goes into the bathroom, trying to see what happened in the bathroom. Other than a crooked towel and steam there is nothing out of place. It looks exactly like how a bathroom should look after a shower. He washes his face, dries is, and exits. She on the bed dressed in a pink shirt and trousers with rhine stones on them. It’s then that Matthew is reminded how young she truly is. She’s running her hands thought Kuma’s fur and Matthew is certain that if Kuma was a cat he would be purring. She’s talking to him in chirping Russian, saying very little but practicing the language.

“Matthieu, ça vas?” she asks, turning to smile at him. He smiles in response, hugging her tightly. “Alors… Es-tu bien?”

“Oui, ma Cherie.” He says. “As-tu faim? J’ai faim!”

“Eh, une pue.”

Alfred’s apartment in New York is glitzy, all stainless steel, hardwood, and glass. They are the last to arrive and Alfred beams when he opens the door to see them. “C’mon in!” he says and whisks them inside. Alfred presses a kiss into Matthew’s cheek.

Matthew laughs, hugging his brother. “Your housewife is showing.”

Alfred gasps, offended. “Shut the front door!”

Matthew snickers, “Already shut.”

“You’re a douche.” Alfred groans.

“Why is he a shower?” Belle asks innocently. It was Matthew’s turn to glare at Alfred and Alfred’s turn to laugh.

“Ma petite.” Alfred smiles, “Une douche en Anglais Américaine est une mot mal.”

Belle wrinkles her nose, “Your accent is funny.” Alfred laughs again, hugging her to his side.

“Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot. It’s Cajun, baby!” He lets her go and crouches down to her level. “Anyways, how’re you feeling, hon? You’ve been having issues, are you any better? You gave all of us a scare yesterday!” Alfred asks, ignoring Matthew’s mutter of “Housewife.”

Belle nods, “Much better, thank you.”

Alfred smiles. “Lovely! What was it? Air quality bad?”

“No just things, recent political decisions.” She shrugs. There is the sound of something breaking in the kitchen; Alfred’s smile becomes strained as he and Matthew share a knowing look.

“They are setting a new record.” Matthew mutters.

“Nah, two days is their record. Once we give them a drink then they will settle down.” Alfred shrugs. “Trust me Mattie; I’ve got a fool-proof plan.” 

The night progresses and Matthew finds himself sitting on the sofa with Belle’s head on his lap and her feet in Alfred’s. Arthur and Francis are sitting next to each other holding hands because Arthur could not trust ‘the frog to keep his bloody hands to himself.’ They are all chatting idly; some music is playing softly in the back ground.

“And it’s disheartening! There’s like no original movies coming out of Hollywood! It’s been obvious for a while, but really? They are considering making movies off of an old children’s game! Doesn’t anyone have something original?”

“Watch it Alfred, you almost sounded educated there for a minute.”

“Iggy, we both know that’ll never happen. Half of my people are proud to be ignorant!” Arthur grumbles something about not being named Iggy, but doesn’t disagree with Alfred.

“Mon cher, isn’t this not one of your songs?” Francis suddenly says in the relative silence.

“Yes, what of it?”

“Care to dance?” Francis offers his hand with a fond smile. Arthur mutters something again, but the smile on his face gives away him true feelings. Francis wraps his arm around Arthur’s waist and they are off, dancing in close spirals around the room. Belle watches entranced. “Belle, would you like to dance?”

She smiles shyly, “I never learned."

“Matthew, how could you? Never asking if she could dance and then not teaching her!” Alfred chides, pulling the beautiful creature to her feet. “Here Belle, I’ll teach you. It’s not that hard. Just follow my lead.”

Matthew watches as Alfred helps Belle learn the first few steps of a dance. Like almost everything else, she picked up the steps quickly and soon the two of them are swinging around the room as the music played in the background, “She’s the girl, she’s the girl who shouted love at the heart of the whole wide world.”

The beautiful creature appears to be completely recovered, except Matthew notices that she is reluctant to eat. He shrugs it off the first few days when she has started to run a slight fever, but after a week of her barely drinking water, he decides something is definitely still wrong.

“Belle, I made blueberry pancakes, do you want any?” Matthew calls through her bedroom door. 

“No thank you!” She responds, “I’m not hungry.” 

Matthew frowns, she loved blueberry pancake and has never turned them down before. “Belle?”

“Yes, Matthew?”

“We need to talk; I am coming in.” He opens the door to what was once his city home’s library but is now her bedroom. Books are strewn across the floor and the beautiful creature sits in the mist of all of them, skirts gathered around her. He sighs, biting back any reprimand about the mess that he wants to say because he knows she always cleans up.

The beautiful creature smiles up at him. “Hi!”

“Belle, why haven’t you been eating recently?” Matthew asks, sitting on a patch of her bed that is clear.

“Just haven’t been hungry and when I do eat, I feel funny.”

“There’s nothing wrong within…”

“Oh no, that’s fine. There is a perfectly rational explanation to all of this.” She says with a shrug.

“Which would be?”

She frowns slightly. “Your people’s diet is different than mine, I guess, and apparently I can’t stomach it anymore.”

“Well, what kinds of good would you like to eat?” Matthew asks.

Belle smiles, “I don’t know. It’s odd not knowing exactly what I am or what I even want to eat.”

“Well, what do you know of yourself?”

“I’m small, not as small as Peter, but close. And it’s cold there and very quiet. I am almost always busy though, always something to discover or test. Things go wrong though, that’s why…” she wiggles her toes self-consciously.

‘You won’t tell me what you are.”

She shakes her head. “But you already know what I am.”

“I thought you would be different.” Matthew says with a fond smile. “But now I can’t imagine you any other way.”

Belle laughs, “I am exactly what people expect of me. That is how I survived before I came to be.” She stands up and places a hand on his shoulder. “I am exactly what you needed though.”

Matthew starts noticing the boy once winter began to thaw. He is tall, looking about twelve, with dark sin and shockingly blue eyes. Whenever he is around, Belle becomes antsy, she flits from room to room and peers out windows at him. Matthew asks the beautiful creature as to who he is and she shies in a way she hasn’t done since they first met. She reverts to her own language. Matthew sighs and hugs her. The next time he sees the boy, he waits until Belle has retreated to her room to go out to talk to him.

“Bonjour.” Matthew calls out to the boy.

The boy smiles a lazy smile that holds a darkness Matthew has seen Antonio use once. Matthew suddenly understands why the beautiful creature is so skittish, this is like them, but more so. “Bonjour, monsieur. Ca va?”

“Eh, ben.” Matthew respons, almost wishing he could disappear as he used to. “Et vous?”

“Parfait, merci.” The boy leans towards him, “Tell me sir, how is your… daughter? She has yet to say hello.”

“She is good, merely doesn’t like the cold.”

The boy laughs, a tone too low for someone his age, “Tell me, Canada, do you truly believe that? She is able to deal with temperatures far lower than the General could bring and survive temperatures much higher than anyone in your family has ever experienced. Don’t let her fool you.”

Matthew swallows, “Who are you?”

The boy grins, “Why don’t you ask her?”

“I did; she only spoke her-" 

“That’s the problem with you, you have so many tongues that you forget the one language that everyone can speak.” The boy cuts across Matthew. “She doesn’t say much, you know, very little in fact. Theoretical ‘advanced’ concepts do not exist in her language. If you would just listen for once, maybe you would comprehend.”  


Matthew is unsure as to what to say to that, “Have I ever spoken this language of hers?”

The boy shrugs, “Maybe, when you were the land and not the people. That’s her problem, she was never made to be of people, and now you have decided that she must be of people.”

“But we are the people.”

“Oh, you might be, but we never were.”

“What are you?”

“Something she cannot escape; something she will chase for the rest of eternity until we both…” he waves his hand vaguely. “You should go back inside now and think about what you know and hope she’ll go soon.” He turns and walks away; walking with the stride of a man as opposed to the boy he appears to be.

Matthew watches him leave and blinks a few times. Shaking his head to clear it, he turns back into his home.

He’s up late working one night when Belle pads down the stairs. She isn’t in her pajamas. “Belle, where are you going?”

“Something isn’t right.” She says softly, “Can’t you feel it?”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“Restlessness, anger, fear.” She looks out the window at the night sky. “I can feel it but I don’t know where or why.”

“What are you going to do about it?” He asks, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. She shrugs as she wraps a scarf around her neck.

“Ask someone who will know.” She heads towards the door.

“You can’t go out by yourself, it’s late and you are too young. You know what I mean.” He stands, slipping back on his glasses. “Give me a minute and we’ll head out.”

They wander around in the city, their breaths clear to see in the risk night. They end up in a park that isn’t known for being a particularly savory place. She lets go of his hand and steps into the dark, just off the path. “Don’t follow me, please. You don’t want to see this.”

There comes a laugh from the darkness she is entering. “You came to see me, dear?”

The crunch of leaves under her feet stops. “Yes.” The beautiful creature’s voice is almost too soft to hear.

“You want to know what is going to happen.” The voice is low and Matthew knows he recognizes it.

“Yes.”

“But you already know.” The voice says, “Look at you, you used to be so powerful, so beautiful, and now you have been left as a child.”

“Don’t touch me.” She whispers, Matthew shifts uncomfortably, wanting to see what is going on.

“As you wish, my dear, but you already know the answer to your question. As to your next one, do what you always do, raise some hell.”

There is the sound of the other walking away. Matthew listens for the return of the beautiful creature and is surprised when he hears her sniffle. He steps off the path and into the darkness. She is leaning against a maple tree, tears running down her face. She stares hollowly at the spot just beyond the trees.

“Belle?” He asks the word hands in the air.

“Pourquoi? J’obéirais votre loi sur la gravatière.” She asks softly and he realizes that it isn’t French, Latin, or Greek. It’s that funny language of hers; the one language that anyone no matter where they are from.

His heart breaks, looking down at the small child with the darkest eyes. He reaches forward to whip away a tear. “Because it wasn’t gravity that kept you here.” He says softly. She gasps at his words and cradles his hand to her cheek.

“Matthieu, can we go home now?” She asks her voice weary and small. Yet she isn’t asking, she doesn’t ask, she doesn’t argue, she doesn’t say much at all, she’s never said anything since she arrived, nothing but this one small thing.

He picks her up, hugging her close. “Of course, Belle.” Matthew smiles as he carries her home. He understands now.

Her last few weeks are spent joyfully; Matthew’s house is rarely empty as friends and family come to visit. Her nights are spent up in her room, writing in the book that Matthew had gotten for her. The meeting is held in Canada, even though it isn’t his turn to host because at this point, everyone knows of her fate.

The meeting is a somber affair, speeches get made, notes are taken and things are kept to the point. Finally it is Belle’s turn to go up and speak.

“I would have written a full report on what has been happening, but all of you already know. Space Exploration is a waste of this world’s resources and the space program will be terminated in 1400 hours and the last journey will be completed by the end of this month. Space will remain untouched until the world economic crisis has been corrected and the exploration of space is deemed necessary.” She pauses then, her hands shaking. “Thank you for your time.” She says softly.

She doesn’t return to her seat, but leaves the room and no one blames her.

Ludwig stands up. “There is a final order of busses for us to address.” Matthew can barely hold the pen as he goes to sign his name. This is the second time he has had to sign something like this, but unlike Gilbert, he knows that everything won’t be fine.

He finds Belle on the roof, looking up at the stars. The moon is waning and soon it will be gone. She looks serene with her hair unbraided and hanging over her shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, merely sits down next to her and holds her close. She doesn’t move, but slowly relaxes into him. When she does peaking, she isn’t talking to him, but to everything and anyone.

“In the beginning, there was silence, there was no need for noise nor was there language to communicate the idea of sound. There were so many of us, yet so few as we were forced to separate. Then there was only three and after the pain, just two. I wasn’t truly alive then, but then the faith came. So much faith that I had to be alive; so I did. I wandered for years, not truly of this world, written off as a god, a fae, a daemon, a spirit.” There is a pause as the sound of a sirens rushing to somewhere in the city hit their ears.

“It’s funny, they ask how many angels can dance on the head of the pin, but I was never small enough to balance on a pin.” She wraps her arms around his neck, finally curling into him fully. “When I finally had people, I was born out of hate and fear. I was blind, Alfred didn’t know what I was, he kept Tony, yet I was given away to a human family as a baby because he never understood what I was.”

“I never aged though and they because suspicious. Their housekeeper saw and plotted. I woke up in the cold of Ivan’s home. He has the same problem as Alfred, not knowing what I was. I became one of his lost children.”

“Interest in me spiked and soon a little aging did occur, as you can tell, but I was still one of the lost. I wandered again, many tried to keep me, but I could never stay, not for long. I came and went, leaving and returning, circling the world to see as much of it as I could. You are the longest I have stayed put for a very long time. You are quiet though, wild and so beautiful.” She says reverently. “I wish you could see how beautiful you truly are.” Her voice cracks. “I just never noticed how much I cared until I found out I had to go.”

Even though he knows what will happen, he presses another kiss into her hair as he wipes her tears. He is left breathless, but the look of comfort on her face is worth it. Her small frame shakes and he knows she is crying. He hums a song that he remembers from a dream, or possibly from a dream of a memory. Slowly her breath even out and she is sleeping lightly; Matthew is left hold her and wondering how he could have condemned her to her fate.

The next few weeks she doesn’t sleep. Matthew stays with her as she sits and writes into her notebook. They talk about everything and anything, slipping between languages and dialects. She tells stories that describe a time before Matthew can remember and he tells her of the time when his hair was dark and wild.

When he needs sleep, she turns off the light and stays in the dark while he sleeps and when he wakes, she smiles and they continue talking. Occasionally they do things that must be done, they eat and move. This cycle continues until one morning, she isn’t there. He snaps awake once he notices, jumps out of bed, glancing at the calendar and panics. Tomorrow is the day and he doesn’t understand why she’s gone.

He calls Alfred who is of little help, and then he calls Ivan, when he gets no information from anyone, he tries to find her but she isn’t within what he is. Matthew does to his closet and pulls out a suit; he combs his hair and straightens his tie.

As he steps out of his apartment, people halt to stare and get out of his way. He knows what kind of power he wields when he wants to because he is his land, these are his people, and he knows that he is doing. It will start as a mumble now, but by lunch it will be a roar, the daughter of the moon is missing, find this beautiful creature.

He goes to the police station to report Belle missing. “Ash blond hair, eh?” the officer says. “Reminds me of the legend that my grandfather used to tell me about the moon and when she fell. I heard her daughter was the most beautiful creature you could see. Though, the moon fell hundreds of years ago. Sorry sir, you must be so worried and I’m getting side tracked by old tales. Do you have a picture?”

Matthew hands over a photo of her and smiles; it is working.

When he arrives in Florida for the last shuttle launch, Alfred meets him with a warm hug. “I’m sorry dude, but no one has been her anywhere. I’ve got the service looking for her. She’s got to be here though, that’s the only good thing.”

Matthew isn’t hopeful, this is Belle, she is one of them and when they don’t want to be seen, they aren’t. He meanders through the crowds, easily disappearing from view, yet he sees nor feels anyone who could be the beautiful creature. His cellphone vibrates and he answers it hesitantly. “Bonjour.”

There is a low laugh from the other end. “You won’t find her there.”

“Who are you?” he asks in a threatening tone.

“I wouldn’t concern yourself with that seeing there is only ten minutes and she’s already on board.” Matthew hangs up before quickly dialing his brother. “She’s on it.” He states, “Where do I go to get her.”

“Mattie, there’s no way we could-”

“Where, Al!” Matthew yells.

“North side, they’ll let you in.” Alfred states meekly. Matthew runs using all of his unnatural strength and speed to get him to the northern gate. He’s panting only slightly when he reaches it. “I need to get in.”

“No unauthorized entry allowed.” Matthew flashes his ID and gives his most commanding look. They let him pass and he is gone. For once he is glad for his practical invisibility as no one tried to stop him and no alarms are set off.

He can feel her now, she’s hiding within a compartment where she knows she’ll get hurt but will remain undiscovered. He can feel her fear and her sadness, but also her excitement, she is going home. He yells, he’s not sure what language, but his voice cracks. He steps right in front of the space shuttle and realizes there is no point. Earth was never home for her and he isn’t going to see her again for a very long time.

So Matthew turns tale and runs away from the rocket that will be lit soon. He keeps running away from Belle, away from Matthew; away from everything because he knows that if he sees her leave, he may never stop crying.

It is early morning when he arrives at home. His bear trundles up to him, for once not asking who he is. He picks up the critter, hugging him close.

“I… liked her.” The bear says. Matthew nods, “So did I.”

“She will… come back.” Kumajirou mumbles.

“I wish I could believe that.” Matthew feels his voice waiver. The bear lets out a snuffle into Matthew’s ear. “No. She said so.”

“Who?” The bear wriggles out of his arms and meanders his way upstairs and into her room. He tries to crawl up onto the bed, only manages to get up when Matthew help him. He noses the pillow, pushing it over.

Her journal is there, the plain navy cover battered. Kumajirou stares at him expectantly, so Matthew picks up the notebook. He runs a hand over the spine, opening it slowly. The beautiful creature’s angular writing meets his eyes. It’s a list of every word he gave her and explanations of what they mean next to them. Then he notices her attempts to use all of them. ‘It is endearing when you tuck your hair behind your ear when you are reading to me.’ ‘I adore it when you sing as you cook.’ ‘Je t’aimerais parce que tu seras.’

He flips the page to see more words he had given her. He sits down slowly onto the bed to continue to read. He reads another page and then the next one; Kumajirou rubs his cheek, his fur feeling damp. Matthew hadn’t noticed he had be crying again.

“Last page.” The bear says. Matthew turns to the final page which is also covered in words.

‘And do the moon returned to the sky, turning her back on the world that had helped her. Yet the darkness that clung to the world did not last for she turns to look down at the world and smile at the creatures who loved her; she meant it when she said she would return to help those who needed her.’

It’s been a little over a week since the beautiful creature left, Matthew can hardly bare the silence, the absence of her moving at night, only cooking for one person, the lack of questions. He didn’t notice how much noise Belle had made and how lonely he had been before she came until she was gone. The sun is almost set, one of Belle’s favorite times of day, and Matthew is reading a book listlessly. He actually doesn’t know what the book is about. The phone rings and Matthew is grateful for the distraction. He tosses aside the book and picks up the phone. “Bonjour.”

“Mattieu?” The voice is soft and hesitant.

“Belle?” Matthew queries in little more than a whisper.

 

“Oui.” She says; he can hear her smile. “Ca va?”

“Pas bien.” He sighs, “I miss you.”

“I know.” Belle states, “Do me a favor? Go to your computer and log in, I want to show you something.”

He goes over to the computer, turning it on. There is a blinking icon that hasn’t been on his computer before. He clicks it and a window opens. Belle smile, her hair is messy and she appears to be hanging upside down. “There’s no sound with this program.”

“Yes, it takes up too much energy to do so and I do not have much energy to use.” Belle shrugs, pulling whatever camera she is using closer to herself. “Now I need to show you something.” The camera turns and he can see out a window at the world. He gasps slightly seeing the broad expanse of land that forms him and his brother, the sun finishing setting over him.

There is silence for a few moments, and then the beautiful creature speaks. “See? I’m not really alone. I can see you and everyone else. You have always been able to see me, you aren’t alone.”

“I’ll still miss you.” He says softly.

“I know, I will miss you too.” The camera turns back to see her. “I am sorry I grabbed your things to show you this.”

“I’m seen myself before.” Matthew says, confused.

“C’est vrai.” She chirrups. “Just watch." The camera turns again and he can see that the sun has set completely and the view of Northern America is slowly inching away. “Look.”

The aurora borealis can be seen clearly from the top of the world. Matthew’s breath is taken away; he’s never seen such beauty in himself before. “This is what I see of you, the beauty. I’ve seen the pain, but you are always so beautiful.”

“Shh… don’t cry Matthieu.” Matthew presses a hand into his eyes.

“Why did you have to go?” he asks.

“I am of faith; science did not please the masses. I’ll be back, when faith demands it or when science requires it.” The beautiful creature says; Matthew is not sure if that is supposed to comfort him. “Don’t be sad.”

They fall into silence, Matthew feeling the northern lights behind his eyelids and the beautiful creature watching from above.  They don’t say anything for a while, until the lights slowly din in their display.

“What’s wrong?” she murmurs.

Matthew doesn’t say anything, shaking his head slightly. When she gets no response, she starts to speak. He goes in and out of being able to understand what she is saying. She is speaking of the things she has been, people she knew and of the faith that kept her alive.

“The battery is dying.” She says.” I have to go.”

“You didn’t bring any way to charge it?” He asks, feeling sadness crawl up his throat.

“No. Beside there isn’t a power outlet up here. It’s all solar and self-contained.” She sighs. “I am sorry, but this has to be good bye for the next while.”

Matthew knows all the answers to all the questions he wants to ask because he has already asked them. “We will see each other soon, right? As long as there is faith?”

“Of course,” She smiles. “Just keep faith going?”

“How do I do that?” she shakes her head and shrugs.

“It used to be churches kept faith. Times have changed though and I do not know how faith is kept strong anymore.”

Matthew nods slowly, “I guess I will have to find out for myself.”

“I’ll miss you.” She says softly again. “I wish I could say it but-”

“I love you.” He cuts across her, smiling. “I know you do. I love you too.”

She yawns. “I know. Now I need to sleep. You will wake me up when I am needed. Please? See you when I wake up.”

“You promise to come see me as soon as you return!”

“Yes, if that is part of-” she yawns again, stretching herself in a way that shouldn’t be physically possible. “Part of-”

“Part of what?” He asks quickly.

“I really do, you know, despite the lack of words. I need- I need to sleep. They are home now.” She smiles and yawns once again. “Au revoir.”

“Belle!” Matthew cries, but she has already cut their connection. He tries to call her back, but an error code is all he receives.

He sits and stares at the room around him, unsure if he should cry as silence crowds him. And then he stands up, picks up his bear and leaves the house. Faith won’t make itself appear, he reflects as the light from the moon illuminates his path.


End file.
